


A Salty Kind Of Passion

by Araschia



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: And rock music plays in the background, Don’t leave, F/M, Salty Tofu is secretly caring, Turn up the steam, shower scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 09:07:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17464583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Araschia/pseuds/Araschia
Summary: Salty Tofu refuses to take a shower. You, the Master Attendant, come up with a creative way to fix this situation.“It’s amusing seeing how invested you are in this. You want me to shower that badly, huh?” he says, a wicked grin on his face.“Uh, yes,” you reply, the words getting stuck in your throat. “Get in the shower now.”





	A Salty Kind Of Passion

You have tried to convince Salty Tofu to take a shower for ten minutes already, but he won’t listen. Now he has his earbuds back in and is nodding his head to the music again. With a sigh, you march over and pull out one of them.

“Look, as part of the battle team, you should shower every day. It’s especially important for you to shower tomorrow because we’ll be going to that noble’s house to receive the special mission. We have to make a good impression.”

“My brother’s also part of the team and I don’t see you nagging to him about showering,” he replies, rolling his eyes. “You know he only showers once a week so that’s way worse. Now, let me listen to—“

“I’ve tried to talk to him too,” you cut in, crossing your arms. “He won’t listen either. You two are just so similar.”

This seems to have hit a nerve of Salty Tofu’s. He takes out the earbud and faces you with a frown.

“My brother’s an idiot. Don’t ever compare him to me.”

“What I’m saying is, you’ll be even better than him if you shower,” you say, continuing to look him straight in the eye. 

“Your opinion of me doesn’t matter much. You’re just a toy to me, you know,” he reminds you, turning away again. You feel a sinking sensation.

But then a idea seizes you.

“How about if I gave you a shower? All you have to do is stand there. Not much effort on your part.”

The suggestion comes tumbling out before you thought it through. Warmth fills your cheeks as you realize what you’re saying. Salty Tofu has one eyebrow raised.

“Ah, interesting~ You’re willing to go such lengths? Guess that’s impressive.”

“Then let’s go. Now,” you say, trying to ignore your quickening heartbeat. You pull him out of his chair and lead him to the showers. Luckily, nobody is using any of them, so no other food soul will witness your wild idea.

Bathing him...your desperation is way too intense. You didn’t think of this when talking to Sweet Tofu. 

Hmm.

You tell him to stay there while you get the supplies. As you run back to your room with shaky legs, you worry he’ll escape. But surprisingly, you find him standing right there when you come back.

“It’s amusing seeing how invested you are in this. You want me to shower that badly, huh?” he says, a wicked grin on his face. 

“Uh, yes,” you reply, the words getting stuck in your throat. “Get in the shower now.”

“Normally, I wouldn’t obey a toy like you but I’m curious to see where this will go,” he says, stepping into the nearest shower. You take a few deep breaths and step in as well. When he closes the curtains, the space suddenly feels smaller. No turning back. 

 

“Um, you can take off—“

“I know. Are you going to?” His grin doesn’t falter. You can’t even meet his eye at this point.

“N-no. I’m not the one who’s showering.”

You turn away as he takes off his clothes. Every time your head semi-consciously turns back, you dig your fingernails into your palm. You aren’t supposed to look at a food soul like this. And definitely not Salty Tofu.

But there’s really no choice. 

“Turn around. No need to be bashful,” he says, amusement in his voice. You turn and try to keep your line of vision solely on his face. However, parts of his upper body are in your peripheral vision. Your cheeks get warm again. 

“O-okay.” Your voice is a mouse. Salty Tofu chuckles.

“Go ahead now~”

Your fingers are trembling as you turn on the water. Taking another breath, you get close to him so the stream is also drenching you.

“Should...I start with your...hair?” You sound as if the water’s slowly freezing your voice.

“You look nice drenched in water.”

You want to frown at his avoidance of your question, but the comment sends a wave of nervousness slicing past your heart. Looking at him, you notice several strands of his brown hair dangling over his pink eye. 

“I think maybe you too?” You sound so stupid that you want to facepalm yourself.

“So let's get started with my hair.”

Salty Tofu’s mismatching eye colors seem more mesmerizing up close. The two colors are as if there’s a whole different side to him you haven’t discovered yet.

You try to shake the thoughts away but they are not like drops of water. The wet clothes sticking to your skin annoy you, but it’s not enough of a distraction. You squeeze out some shampoo and spread it on his hair. Your fingers stroke the thin, soft strands and your heart is pounding to the point where Salty Tofu can probably hear it. He stays still and as for his expression, you can’t bring yourself to check.

“Is this...okay?” you ask to break the suffocating silence. 

“You’re so thorough. I usually take only a few seconds.” 

You never thought his voice was particularly alluring, but in this enclosed space and bold situation, every word from him stirs up your nerves. 

“Are you telling me to hurry a bit?”

“Without my music, I’m kind of bored. Do whatever,” he replies. You wish your voice could sound so nonchalant. 

You hasten your scrubbing and turn the water back on to wash the shampoo away. The soapy water spills onto his hair and trickles down him. Realizing where you’re looking, you snap your gaze back on his hair.

“This is a bit embarrassing for me,” you admit. Surely, anyone would feel the same with a fully naked food soul right beside them in a shower.

“I can tell. You aren’t talking to me in a bossy way. Interesting change.”

“And you’re actually listening to me. That’s also an interesting change.”

Next thing you know, Salty Tofu’s soft wet lips are on yours. You almost have a heart attack. Within seconds, he pulls away, breathing a little heavier.

“Heh, that felt nice,” he comments, grinning. There’s something darker about it.

“Why did you…?”

“Just move on to washing my body, okay?”

Here he goes evading your questions. You pick up the bottle of body wash and the mere thought of applying it all over him makes you fumble with the bottle and nearly drop it.

“I’ll um start with your arms.”

You try to exhale your nervousness away with minimal success and begin the bold task. The scent of lavender in the wash is supposed to be calming, yet it has no such effect on you right now. Your hands slide along his slippery arms, neck, chest…

This has got to be against the law. Something else stirs in you, something different from nervousness. No, it can’t be desire.

Not for this quarrelsome and eccentric food soul.

Your fingers brush past his belly ring and hesitantly creep to the two tofu outlines on his lower abdomen.

“Are you bathing me or touching me?” Salty Tofu pipes up, a teasing look on his face. It seems laced with more friendliness than usual though. Your cheeks must be red by now.

“Oh, sorry. I just…”

“Ha, I knew you had ulterior motives when you asked to shower me.”

So your nervousness is obvious. Your heartbeat is running a marathon and securing a first place finish.

“N-no, not really,” you say, withdrawing your hands from him. He touches your shoulder and traces the outline of your soaked shirt along your collarbone. Every second of this makes you shiver in the warm water. You want him to stop but when he does, a cloud of something like disappointment settles over you.

You are going crazy.

“Finish bathing me now so we can blast rock music later~” 

His use of ‘we’ shakes you up. Maybe you don’t have to leave immediately after this. Do you even want to?

You’re not sure anymore.

Eventually, after what felt like years but was really only thirty minutes, you and him step out of the shower. With Salty Tofu wrapped in a towel, you can finally look at him without extreme anxiety.

“I want to know why you kissed me in there,” you say, regaining some composure. “It was so random.”

“My thoughts get wild sometimes,” he replies with a shrug. “By the way, your shampoo smells really nice.”

“Uh, thanks.” The unexpected compliment renders your voice quieter again. 

The two of you reach his room. Salty Tofu faces you.

“So you made me take a shower. Happy now?”

You think over his question for much too long. To leave him would make you uncomfortable for some reason. 

That flicker of desire in the shower…

Sensing your hesitation, he leans in and kisses you a second time. Without the wetness, it feels warmer, more...pleasant?

“I thought you were eager to listen to your music,” you say when it ends. The words come out a bit breathless.

“I thought you would be eager to leave.” His grin resurfaces. “Come in if you want.”

You go in without a second thought and sit down on a worn out sofa. The threads of the two pillows on it are coming loose. You look away when he puts on his clothes despite having already seen him. Well, he took a bath. But why aren’t you feeling satisfied?

Salty Tofu plops down next to you and you flinch.

“You used to not like my company since I’m just a toy to you,” you remind him without eye contact.

“You are just a toy. My toy.” He moves closer to you so his lips are almost touching yours. “I would like you to sleep with me tonight.”

The words sound too clear for your ears to be hallucinating. 

“Okay,” is your equally crazy reply. His grin widens.

…

The sunset came and went, blanketing the world in darkness. The edges of Salty Tofu’s desk and also the corners of the room are glow-in-the dark. Brown, white, and pink fill your eyes wherever you look.

He sets up his boombox and plays a rock song. The loud and busy chords and vocals make your hands sweat at what is to come.

“Come on.” He leads you to his bed. The blankets are hanging off the sides and the pillow is crooked. You sit down beside him, wondering why you agreed to stay the night with him.

“Are you seriously going to—“

“Of course we are.” 

You find yourself in a kiss again. It muddles your thoughts of escape. Despite yourself, you put a hand on his shoulder and press yourself closer to him. The coconut scent of the shampoo and the lavender of the body wash fill your senses. They’re smells you experience every day yet when they’re on another person, there’s a new, refreshing quality.

His hands travel to your waist and slip under your shirt. You flinch at his warm touch.

“You’re definitely not shy about this.”

“Why would I be?” Salty Tofu gently pushes you on to your back and leans over you. “Also, you’re only supposed to talk when I tell you to. Got it?”

“Sure, sure.” A maniacal smile tugs at your lips. “And I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”

“Hah, you think you’re so clever.” The cool sensation of his lip piercing touching your chest quickens your breathing. You can’t really think, not exactly because of the rock music blasting in the room. In fact, you don’t even mind it much anymore. His kisses and stomach caresses are all you pay attention to now.

“You taste good,” he murmurs against your ear. He nibbles it, coaxing a soft moan out of you. He’s never been nearly as close to you before as he is now. During explorations, he’d always be in the front, yelling at you and the other food souls to, “hurry up and get these trivial things over with”. In the restaurant, he’d announce a dish is done and then immediately move on to cooking something else on another stove instead of wait for you to plate the finished food. On journeys to eliminate fallen angels, he’d walk in the front so he wouldn’t be too close to, “a toy like you.” 

And now he’s on you, toying with your body and your emotions…

You reach out to grab Salty Tofu’s shirt, but he slaps your hand away.

“You don’t have permission to touch me yet,” he reminds you, sounding huskier than before. “Toys aren’t allowed to be impatient, so stay still.”

“It’s no fun sitting there and waiting, Salty.” You prop yourself up and press your lips against his. The more times you kiss him, the more pleasurable it feels. He freezes up for a second at your disobedience but quickly regains his composure and pulls away. His mismatched eyes pierce into yours, burning any remaining scraps of regret and sanity you might be holding on to.

“Dare to challenge my authority? You sure? My favorite song is about to come on, so I won’t be held responsible for what I do to you~”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I want to know what you’ll do,” you reply, grinning like a madman. He responds with a mad grin of his own.

“Heh, I like you.”

The electric guitar strums a lighthearted opening sequence. Salty Tofu pins you down and fingers the hem of your skirt. A shiver runs through you when his fingers brush past your lower stomach.

“You think you’re a tease, don’t you?” you say, looking straight at him. He’s fully clothed, while you’re missing your shirt. Unfair.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” His rough voice never sounded so appealing. 

“Didn’t I tell you I would challenge your authority?” As you speak, you manage to push yourself into a sitting position. Quickly, you take hold of his shirt and pull the thin fabric off him. The chord progression in the song builds in intensity, as does Salty Tofu’s expression.

“What are you—“

“As you said, your favorite song is playing.” You try to push him down and he resists, but an adrenaline-fueled shove lands you your victory. “So shouldn’t I make your enjoyment of it even greater?”

“You want to play with fire, huh?” His glare turns some of your tingles of excitement into those of anxiety. Any sane person knows that testing this food soul’s temper was a dangerous idea. But right now, you aren’t sane.

“This is my answer.” Pinning him in place, you press your lips on his chest and plant kisses along his upper body. You’re trembling at what you’re doing, but it’s not enough to stamp out the desire flickering in you. Salty Tofu’s incessant squirming is only encouraging you. With a clouded mind, you lean in and lick his belly button ring. 

“Stop.” The word comes out of him as more of a groan than speech. It stirs wild ideas in your head. You kiss his neck, softly biting it in the process, and the resulting growl from him sends tingles throughout your body. 

“The song hasn’t ended yet, so no.” Your fingers crawl lower, to the two tofu outlines. You’ve touched them before, in the shower, but not with the confidence you have this time. 

“Now it’s ended.” His voice is calm. But then he sits himself up and shoves you onto the current absolute mess of blankets. You become still and your eyes go wide, suddenly remembering who you’re messing with. 

“Um—“

“All right, you’ve made me take a shower and then you’ve gotten on top of me while my favorite song was playing. Impressive.” Salty Tofu gives a demented chuckle. “What do you want now, hmm?”

He runs his thumb along the inside of your lower lip, a simple act that makes you clench your fists. 

“Just admit you enjoyed it when I was on you.” 

His dominance always got on your nerves, but now, you find it almost unbearable. 

“I didn’t get to really listen to the music, so I was bored actually.”

“Bored?” You suppress a giggle. “Then how do you explain the sounds you made?”

His nonchalant façade becomes a frown of frustration. “How many times have I told you to shut up?” 

“Only twice.”

The sound of voices outside reach your ears and both of you freeze. It seems to be Black Tea and Coffee talking about where you might be. It’d make more sense for you to be romantic with the latter food soul instead of this weird, rebellious food soul you’re with. 

Your cheek flush.

“They’re looking for me. I guess I have to go, Salty Tofu. I’ll be back soon.”

“Yeah, and I admire my older brother.” He doesn’t do anything as you put on your shirt, but when you turn to leave, he grabs you by the shirt sleeve and pulls you back so hard your it rips a little and your shoulder stings from his fingernails. “Fuck no.”

The fire in his eyes makes it difficult for you to look away. Meanwhile, the voices are getting fainter.

“I—“

“You’ve never paid much attention to me.” He tugs off your shirt again. “You’d always follow Coffee and Chocolate around when you’re working in the restaurant and Tempura when you’re battling or exploring. You even talk to Sweet Tofu much more than to me, goddamn it!”

“You tell me I’m just a toy when I talk to you, so I’m not inclined to spend much time with you,” you reply, your eyebrows knitting as well. “It’s not my fault.”

“Is it better if I call you Master Attendant?” His use of your title shakes up your heart. You would’ve never thought he’d even think about saying it. 

“This is really not characteristic of you.”

His lips are on yours once more, warm and soft. You moan in spite of yourself as he strokes your back and then your breasts. The other food souls can surely manage without you until tomorrow.

“Mine...you’re mine.” Breathing heavily, Salty Tofu pulls off your skirt and seconds later, your underwear. Your cheeks get warm at your nakedness and he laughs. “You embarrassed, Master Attendant?”

“Yes. You should take the rest of your clothes off to distract me.” You no longer have much control over your words. He raises an eyebrow like he did when you offered to wash him. 

“Are you sure you’re the same person who got super nervous in the shower with me?” He rests his hands on your thighs. “Okay, I will. Not because you asked me to, but because I want to.”

You lie there, watching him finish undressing. There’s honestly nothing especially impressive about his figure, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting him. Did this desire flicker into existence after the shower incident or had it lay dormant long before? 

“Much better,” you say once he’s done. 

“So, what do you want me to do?” He’s so close you can almost feel him on you.

“You know the answer.”

“Wanna hear it from your mouth,” he insists, wearing his signature grin. This one, though, is laced with longing. 

“Fuck me.” Your cheeks feel even warmer after saying it.

“Can’t hear you through the music.” His breath tickles your face.

“Get in me right now.”

“Where’s your “trying-to-boss-me-around” voice?” The way he’s gripping the blankets gives away his impatience.

“If you don’t start fucking me right this second, I’ll actually leave and you’ll have to deal with your frustration somehow without me.”

“Ha, fuck you.” At last, Salty Tofu slips into you. “You’re my type of girl.”

He’s not an alcohol food soul, but he’s making you more drunk than any of them ever could. While he moves within you to the rhythm of the song currently blasting from his boombox, you mess up his hair with your hands. Just hours ago, you and him hadn’t ever exchanged many words. Now, the two of you are exchanging words, sweat, and more. White, brown, and pink...white, brown, and pink…

He comes first with a half-suppressed groan. When he starts to pull out, you give a little whine.

“No, not yet, Salty.” You are so close.

He sighs. “Just come already.”

The fact that he cares about your pleasure is another surprise. He gives you a kiss, a softer one than the others, and slowly strokes you from your collarbone downward. At his every touch, you can’t keep still. When you still don’t go over the edge, he frowns and presses his mouth on your breasts. It’s when he licks your nipple when you finally come with a moan. 

Salty Tofu grins, rolls off you, and gets up from the bed to turn off his boombox. Immediately after, he jumps back on the sheets to lie beside you. You’re a naked mess of sweat, dazed feelings, and frizzled hair, but none of it matters to you.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” He gazes at you. “You know, I wouldn't have thought a toy like you would bring me so much pleasure.” Noticing your expression growing dimmer, he sighs. “Sorry. I...I won’t treat you like a toy anymore. So smile for me, okay?”

The words warm your heart and you smile. “Okay. And I’ll talk to you more often from now on. You’re a special food soul to me, Salty.”

He doesn’t say anything for a while, but instead smiles. It’s not one of his maniacal or mischievous smiles. It’s a sincere smile, and looking closer at him, he’s even blushing a little. You didn’t know he was capable of smiling like that, let alone blushing.

“Feel free to knock on my door sometimes,” he says, playing with a few strands of your hair. “I’ll let you in and we can hang out.”

“I will.” You yawn and realize how dark it is outside. You tuck yourself into the blankets and Salty Tofu does the same. 

“Good night, Master Attendant.” He strokes your cheek but stops after a few seconds as if embarrassed. You giggle.

“Good night, Salty Tofu.”


End file.
